


We are all fools in love

by VasaliaTheWise



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Awkward Dates, Bands being bros, Banter, Bickering, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Matchmaking, Movie Dates, Movie Night, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Friendship, Vintage shopping, mix ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24935944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VasaliaTheWise/pseuds/VasaliaTheWise
Summary: You and Roger Taylor are just friends and that's it. The band secretly disagrees and it's about time you both said it!
Relationships: Roger Taylor/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	We are all fools in love

“We’re gonna hold hands, but we aren’t together together!” Roger insisted as you walked through the park.  
“How come?” you asked.  
The Autumn breeze chilled you a bit. A couple of leaves fell right before your feet. Stepping on them, there was a satisfying crunch that made you smile. A few park workers were taking away the pumpkins for Halloween festivities and replacing them with banners promoting bonfires for November.  
“Because I just don’t want you to get lost! This is a bloody huge city! And the crowds are big!” Roger explained, he waved his arms around the place.  
The band and you had hit the dry hours. Other than a few workers, you barely saw a soul.  
“I think you forgot…I live in this city. Same as you!” you retorted.  
Roger shrugged, scratching the back of his head.  
“I just want you to be safe!” he cried.  
“Well if it makes you feel like I will be safe, I’ll do it” you say.  
Pouting slightly, you accepted his large, smooth hand and continued your walk. Though the other three just keep laughing in the back at you two making little fusses just like that, eyeing each other at the odd comment and mouths tight shut to keep themselves from laughing.  
“It’s like they’re married already,” Brian commented, tightening his red scarf.  
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but…something’s got to happen…” John commented.  
Freddie waited until you and Roger were far enough and then turned to them.  
“I’m sick of it! And they are sick of it too! You see it- of all the sweet glances when the other one isn’t looking! And I’m fucking sick of hearing Roger keep talking until the cows came home about “how bloody lovely y/n is,” or “y/n did this and it’s amazing! No one’s as smart as y/n!’” he added, lifting his voice up a few pitches to mimic Roger’s  
“Are you both lost or what!” you called behind, looking at the three.  
Without another word, Fred led the way quietly for the rest of the walk. But his mind was restless.

Roger insisted on visiting the vintage shop with you by his side the next day. Not that much had changed in a day, you said. He refused to hear of it.  
Opening the door, you were greeted by a retail worker who pointed you to the rack of sale items. There was the smell of old leather and furs already deep in your nose as you noticed a warm coat at least from the forties.   
This is Perfect.  
You peruse prices, ranging from the extreme to the frugal. But Fred, knowing you both visited regularly comes in, staying away, half hiding behind some blue dresses at least a decade old.  
“Doing anything Sunday, Rog?” you asked.  
“I’ve got nothing on Sunday, Sundays are always boring!” he complained.  
He stared in shocked awe at a garish orange blouse with ruffles on it before moving to the next item.  
“Rog, I think Sundays are nice! They’re quiet, peaceful…”  
“Ha! You think! It’s too bloody quiet and only the church is open,” he interjected.  
Turning your head, you folded your arms crossly.  
“Sunday’s are nice, Rog!”   
One certain outfit caught your eye when you noticed the mannequin, but checking the price tag you shook your head and let out a small sigh.  
“Wanna bet!”  
Fred stifled a laughter following the ridiculous little bout. He even bent his legs to hide deeper amongst the Fifties dresses with starched, crinoline skirts.  
“No, no need to bet. There are horror movies that come on Sunday night, I’ll show you! You know how much I love horror movies!” you begged.  
Roger’s eyes lit up and he blinked. Then his smile returned rather than his immature pout.  
“Really, what channel?”  
“Rog, you really have to know. Do you really just go to bars and clubs on Sundays? Just get drunk?”  
‘Well, at least they’re not boring, Y/N!” he argued.  
Rolling your eyes, you walked over to where there were pants for women. But you couldn’t help but smile. Roger was an intelligent man. He was just an intelligent man with the instincts of a child sometimes. Secretly it always charmed you.  
“Whatever just come over. And don’t get drunk. Not yet,” you said.  
Freddie had a deep smile on his lips. He stayed hiding in the shop until you both left.  
This is perfect he thought, looking right at the clothes you were eyeing.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
On Sunday afternoon, there is a red blouse and the nicest pants you had ever seen on your bed, laid out, fresh from the vintage shop.   
Your jaw drops and you held back a small scream at the sight. The shirt you found was a blouse: smooth as silk and lovely. The pants fitted you perfectly: lighter colored with a subtle pattern.  
Walking in front of the mirror, you never saw yourself looking nicer than you had before.  
Next to where your clothes had been was on a small piece of paper with typewriting on it:  
“Thought you’d like it! Please wear tonight! MY gift! XXXX- Rog”   
Biting your lip, you looked at it in the mirror, examining every inch.  
“Well…it’s not too girly and it’s not racy at all…but I better put on a jacket to make it safe…”  
But no. Roger could not mean it. Not for you at least. There was probably some girl he was buying lingerie for, you knew. There were always crowds of women after him at parties. He was always calling women up and talking to them.   
“There’s just some chick he’s crazy about and he isn’t telling me because he doesn’t want to make it weird…or maybe he’s really into Fred or something.”  
The thought always made you sad.  
“Still, wouldn’t hurt to doll up though, especially if he asked for it…” you think, feeling that brief glimmer of hope in your belly.

As Roger sat in his home, reading while smoking his cigarette like a mediatation, there was a sudden knock on the door.  
“I’m back already!” Fred announced.  
Cheerfully, he set it down and answered.  
“Oh! You’re smoking! I’m dying for one myself- let’s go out.”  
“It’s fine in here, why?”  
“Well, darling, you don’t need the landlord on our necks for any reason: and it’s lovely tonight!”  
They wandered out, talking about everything. Though Freddie was changing subjects fast and talking a mile a minute, even for Roger’s standards.  
It seemed he had long past flicked away his cigarette when you finally walked up in a light coat, a little odd from the feeling of the outfit.  
“Oh, Y/N! How are you, dear?” Freddie greeted, waving his arms up.  
Waving back, you gave him a small hug. But he suddenly swirled off, practically waltzing away giving a hundred excuses.  
“By the way, thank you for the gift,” you said shyly.  
Roger turned to you as he went to where his door stood.  
“Huh? What gift?”  
Roger led you back up to the flat but coming up you noticed it was filled with candles and roses. You both gasped, a little shocked and smiling. Though your insides felt like butter.  
“Roger, it…it looks beautiful!”  
“Why it…it does, but Y/N…I didn’t do it.”  
“What, really?”  
As you took off your jacket casually, Roger kept staring at your outfit.  
“That’s…pretty odd.”  
Roger turned bright red and set himself in front of the tv.   
“Anyway, uh, films on, let’s…let’s watch it!” he blubbered.  
But as the monster in the movie was revealed and was devouring it’s screaming victims, you felt Roger’s eyes continually wander ot you. Both of you sat still. Neither one asked the other for a drink or a snack or anything.  
“You do look, really…really nice Y/N.”  
Your head flipped over.  
“I mean, you’ve always looked nice and I swear, I never really…you just look especially nice tonight!”  
Smiling, you mumbled a thank you, while looking down.  
As the movie went on, you both relaxed.  
Roger’s hand moved to yours.  
Sweating, you accepted it. Although now the sudden threat of something that lurked in the night was nothing compared to your reality.  
You scooted closer to Roger. He scooted closer in kind.  
So then you looked shyly at each other.  
“Roger…I…just…I just…”  
“What is it…”  
“I’ve always liked you but…liked liked you- oh god, I must sound like a kid.”  
“You don’t, you…you actually make perfect sense, Rog!”  
“What d’you mean?”  
“I…I’ve loved you! It sounds ridiculous coming out of me- but, I’ve always wanted to just scream it from the hill, I love you!”  
He put a hand against your face, gently caressing it. You leaned closer to it, almost shivering.  
Softly, Roger leaned forward, his head tilting, and kissing you. It was wet and you could taste the bits he ate and the strong tobacco from the smoking. He was so close, warm, with his sweat and his shampoo. You felt your hands go over his arm, pulling him closer. You pulled away, and then you went in for another kiss, to make sure it was all real. It felt wonderful. His hands went to your back and pressed you as if you were both one flesh with two minds. Both of you pulled away briefly. There were a few soft chuckles released with a puff of released breath. He then pressed a forehead to yours. Your eyes closed for a second, feeling it. Both of you were breathing in unison, feeling that space between you that was desperate to be filled.  
Freddie only leaned against a stoplight, barely looking at the window of the place. Brian and John stood by him, with hands in their pockets to protect from the cold. Seeing the light go out in Roger’s place, they all knew their job was done and left to celebrate.


End file.
